


Hospitality

by immistermercury



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Smut, Kinda, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, but in a place where that's acceptable, but the plot is fluff, but there is some plot, i couldn't decide, in the vaguest sense, it's 1982 and fred lives in nyc, it's basically a pwp, sauna sex, so basically not, so i learned about 80s bathhouse culture, sponsored by wikipedia, subspace but I write it inconsistently, this was the result, wait for the next chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-05-14 10:33:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19271482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immistermercury/pseuds/immistermercury
Summary: His cheeks warmed a little but he reminded himself that here, in this place, it was okay to look, okay to touch; the attention was wanted, craved. His eyes skimmed cropped hair, curling towards the end; a carefully trimmed moustache, with more than five o’clock shadow hugging his jawline; lean, not especially defined but clearly well kept-As he lolled his head back, exposing a long, sharp throat, Jim’s mouth went a little dry. Often, men didn’t play the seductress with him, but it was his weakness; it fell on just the right side of teasing.





	1. West Side Baths

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lovely_hl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovely_hl/gifts).



> Hey kids, I finished my A-levels and this is the result!nYou can all blame the one line on Wikipedia, "Queen frontman Freddie Mercury was known to frequent the bathhouses of New York City when he lived there for a couple of years in the early 1980s."
> 
> Dedicated to Lindsey because me? Writing something canon-compliant?

The problem, Jim mused, is that behind all the bravado, gay men are awfully shy.

 

The holiday was a luxury, and maybe he shouldn’t have been quite so focused on picking someone up when the time was put aside for him to enjoy himself, but he couldn’t resist the temptation of the tubs when he passed them in downtown Manhattan. The idea had stayed in his head all day as he’d messed around with friends, trying to fulfil the duties he had as a tourist while thinking about the flyer that he’d inconspicuously tucked away in his bag for the evening.

 

_ Three floors,  _ it promised him.  _ Only for men,  _ it promised him.

 

He’d been to Sailors- he wasn’t naive. He wasn’t expecting to meet the love of his life, but he was hoping for some new faces.

 

His heart pounded in his chest as he walked into the main room; Sailors had always insisted on a certain degree of modesty, a towel around the waist, enough to avoid getting an eyeful with every which way you turned. Here, it was unashamed nudity: built, stocky men with cut hips and rough knuckles; slender men with slight definition and ridiculous waistlines.

 

It was like a dream come true.

 

The water of the jacuzzi was warm as he stepped in, taking a moment to admire the view around him; the mixture of heat, variety, unfamiliarity and the moans from a side room got him going quicker than they should’ve. He forced himself to calm his shaking hands, to try to lose himself a little in the adrenaline of the moment; he looked briefly over to a pair of eyes that seemed to have cast more than a customary glance at him.

 

His cheeks warmed a little but he reminded himself that here, in this place, it was okay to look, okay to touch; the attention was wanted, craved. His eyes skimmed cropped hair, curling towards the end; a carefully trimmed moustache, with more than five o’clock shadow hugging his jawline; lean, not especially defined but clearly well kept-

 

As he lolled his head back, exposing a long, sharp throat, Jim’s mouth went a little dry. Often, men didn’t play the seductress with him, but it was his weakness; it fell on just the right side of teasing. 

 

He would’ve happily walked over, gone straight for grabbing hands and the crush of lips that he was used to with club etiquette, but here it seemed wrong. The man was so exposed and so willing to be exposed; Jim couldn’t see below the waist with the roll of the bubbles over his body, but he could imagine thin legs all too willing to wrap around his waist. He wanted to move, but he was also enthralled by how far this man would go, how much he would expose inch by tantalising inch just to keep his attention for a little longer.

 

Jim licked his lips as the man stood up, turning away from him to give him the most modest view of what there was to offer. His skin was steaming with the water, and the slight self-assured glance over his shoulder that he gave Jim just made him more attractive. If he’d grown tired of shy men, men still so unsure of their sexuality that they couldn’t find it in themselves to carry through what they’d started, then this had to be the antidote. 

 

The man lounged under the cool spray of the shower, eyes closed and hair slicked back with water; Jim drank in the sight of all that skin, the lean body, the legs and the cock that he couldn’t help but be drawn to.

 

He wasn’t unused to following minute commands; the communal areas weren’t often for talking to find out more. A jerk of the head, a look to another room - Jim stood up, trying not to be too quick, to be too obvious.

 

The corridor was dark, but it was almost too easy to find the right room. A half-open door, the heady smell of lavender and patchouli, a lone figure lying on his front, stomach pressed to smooth, warm tiles. Lying on his front - Jim’s cock twitched at the thought of getting to fuck him.

 

A broad hand pressed into his shoulder blade and the man tilted his head up and to the side. “It’s nice of you to join me.” The voice was low, but the accent was unexpected; he’d anticipated a strong New York twang, but he was greeted with Queen’s English, posh London, Kensington and Chelsea. 

 

“How could you expect me to resist your little show?” Jim questioned, standing in front of him.

 

The man sat on the bench and reached out, hands running over the warm, wet skin of Jim’s thighs. “An Irishman.” He mused, pressing a hot kiss to his hipbone. “You really are a dream, darling.”

 

Jim pulled him up, pulled those hot lips against his own. “And a Londoner.” He replied as easily. “Thousands of miles from home.”

 

The man laughed and knotted a hand in his hair, kissing him long and deep. It was unusual for Jim: men so often were only interested in sex, never teasing and kissing and foreplay like this. Jim picked him up and sat him on a counter, hands lightly tracing the smooth skin on the insides of his thighs; he bit at his lower lip gently as hands came up to grip his shoulders. “Got me in one.” The man replied breathlessly. “Freddie Mercury, nice to meet you.”

 

Jim laughed; the vibrations reverberated off his lips. Sex in these institutions was so often anonymous; it felt strangely comforting to have a name for a face. “Jim Hutton.” He replied. He couldn’t help running the heel of his hand over the base of his cock as the man in front of him thrust his hips up impatiently. Somewhere in his head it came across as strangely endearing. “What do you want, gorgeous?”

 

Freddie tugged him back in for another kiss, lost in a haze of want and desire that made warm skin move so fluidly. “I want to blow you.” He murmured, nipping at his lips a little. “Please?” He tried, all sweetness and charm, blushing cheeks and hopeful smiles. He knew that that look - the coy glance from beneath the eyelashes - got him his way almost any time.

 

“How can I resist that?” Jim echoed playfully. “I’m not stopping you, gorgeous.”

 

The excitement of sex danced through Freddie’s mind as he dropped to his knees in front of him, smirking and licking his lips. He wasn’t often one for head at the tubs; he felt it distracted too much for the main event, made him a little too submissive. For some reason, however, today he wanted to draw it out, wanted to wind up, wanted to tease.

 

Jim’s head tilted back as the mouth closed around him quickly, immediately straining not to snap his hips forward. He loved a man who knew when to tease, and knew when to give: he was almost embarrassingly hard from a few choice looks and hot kisses. “Jesus-” He groaned, tilting his head back.

 

Freddie loved them vocal; he loved praise almost as much as he loved degradation. He closed his eyes and gripped the base of Jim’s cock with one hand, taking as much as he could at once. He pulled back up and lapped playfully at the head, rolling the salty, heady taste over his tongue, the strongest aphrodisiac. 

 

Jim gripped the counter behind him and bit down on his lip in an attempt to stay even reasonably quiet; he didn’t want to ruin the moment, the spell on them both, with mistaken words. “God, Freddie-” He held his hips back almost painfully.  _ “Fuck-” _

 

Freddie arched a sarcastic eyebrow and pulled back, licking the precum from his lips. “I hope you’re not planning to be this passive all evening, darling.” He drawled. 

 

A hand tangled in his hair and Freddie smirked. “That’s more like it.” He murmured, hollowing his cheeks as he went back down.

 

“You’re such a whore.” Jim replied, breathless; he cried out as Freddie moaned around him, the vibrations racing through his cock. “God, you like that?” He asked, thrusting his hips deliberately. Freddie moved with him, jaw slackening a little, letting his throat be used easily. “You like being told what a slut you are?”

 

Freddie squeezed his own cock lightly, suddenly more turned on than he could remember being for a long time. He whined as a foot kicked his hand away, pulling him deeper on Jim’s cock; he glanced up through his eyelashes as his nose nuzzled at the base. “Look at you.” Jim groaned, picking up the pace that he was thrusting into his mouth. “Oh,  _ fuck-”  _ He gasped, losing composure. “You look fucking gorgeous.”

 

The blush was so strangely demure for the moment, but Freddie pulled back up to lather attention on the head, a hand stroking Jim’s cock quickly. Jim gasped roughly as Freddie lapped at the slit, the hand in his hair holding him still as his hips thrusted erratically. His tongue was velvet-smooth as he thrusted again and again, brow creasing with the pleasure- he shut his eyes as he moaned, unable to take the slight of Freddie, hard and on his knees, catching his eyes beneath those sinful eyelashes. “Freddie-” He gasped. “Like that-  _ just like that-  _ fuck!” He shouted.

 

Heat curled in the base of his stomach and he moaned desperately. “God, I want to fuck you.” He pulled Freddie off before it was too late. “Fuck, please.”

 

“As you asked so nicely.” Freddie’s voice was rough from having his throat fucked and he stood up, kissing Jim heatedly. He could taste himself on Freddie’s lips and he groaned, nails digging into Freddie’s hips.

 

Freddie broke away and moved to lounge on the bed across the room; he tried not to betray how excited he was, how fast his heart was pounding. “Supplies are on the table by the door.” He told Jim, spreading his legs and running a hand up over his chest, tweaking a nipple. “Don’t think you’re going bareback.”

 

Jim chuckled and grabbed the lube and condoms from the table. He crawled between Freddie’s legs, settling his hand over Freddie’s cock - light, teasing pleasure, not enough for anything - until he had the man beneath him grinding into his palm. “That’s it, gorgeous.” Jim cooed as Freddie’s cock throbbed in his hand. “Let’s get you stretched out.”

 

Maybe Freddie’s body language betrayed how much he loved being fingered; fingers were no cock, and he was always appreciative of a well-hung man, but fingers were dextrous and clever and made him moan quicker than anything else. He canted his hips up eagerly and bit his lip teasingly. “Go on, daddy.” He teased. “Make me feel good.”

 

One finger, slick and sweet, was so easy when he was greedy for it. His eyelashes struggled against the weight of the pleasure as it nudged up against his spot; he was so easy to please, legs falling open so easily. “I’m not going to break.” He hooked a leg over Jim’s shoulder. “God, I need another, please-  _ please,  _ daddy.” He whined as Jim teased a second finger over his rim.

 

He moaned as two fingers massaged his prostate, back arching harshly; he squeezed his legs together, too much and not enough, trying to push down on it. “Oh, yeah-” Freddie’s smile was practically euphoric. “Oh, that’s good-”

 

The quiet, breathy voice that he spoke with made Jim’s cock ache; he’d never forget this sex. “That good, baby?” He pressed a kiss to the inside of Freddie’s thigh. “Daddy making you feel good?”

 

“So good-” He let his eyes close completely, his body going boneless as Jim fucked him with his fingers. He was so swollen, so sensitive to his touch, and everything sent sparks of pleasure through him. He wanted to stay in control, to stay bratty, to challenge him, but he couldn’t - not when his fingers could move like that. “Oh,  _ fuck-”  _ He moaned loudly. “Oh,  _ daddy-” _ He panted as he thrust his hips down onto his fingers.

 

Jim could only watch as he took another finger with practised ease, his moan echoing as Jim carefully massaged the bundle of nerves. Freddie’s cock leaked desperately, a trail of precum dripping down onto his stomach; Jim lapped it up with an eager tongue. Freddie gripped the headboard and fucked himself down on Jim’s fingers, whimpering so gorgeously with the pleasure. Jim had never wanted to fuck someone so much in his whole life.

 

He could’ve done anything that evening; he happily would’ve laid between those legs until his fourth finger, his thumb, his knuckles had all disappeared inside him, watching as the gorgeous man in front of him spurted hot and wet over his chest again and again. He would’ve swallowed his cock down, let him fuck his mouth; he would’ve been fucked, or followed him to another room for the sake of their evening.

 

_ “Daddy-”  _ Freddie whined louder; Jim watched how the muscles in his legs trembled as he swallowed his fingers over and over again. He was strung so tightly, chest thrust towards the heavens in the dark little room, legs pushing down desperately on those fingers, stomach muscles clenching desperately. “I’m gonna come-” He whimpered, throwing his head back, voice barely a thread of sound.

 

Jim felt cruel for pulling his fingers out then, even more so at Freddie’s bereft whine. He had just gotten the condom on before Freddie was shoving him down on the bed, drizzling lube over his cock and sinking down. 

 

Freddie’s mouth fell open in silent ecstasy as he allowed his body to open up, hands trembling with the pleasure. He was close, it would all happen too soon- he moaned desperately as he bottomed out, throwing his head back. 

 

“Are you going to come on Daddy’s cock, darling?” Jim ran a hand up his body. “I think you are.”

 

Freddie wanted to bite back, to prove he could hold it better than he thought, but one thrust of Jim’s hips sent him crying out, body jerking as he came.

 

When he opened his eyes, he recognised that Jim’s hands were holding him upright; his hands trembled as he rested them on Jim’s chest. “Is that better, darling?” Jim asked sweetly.

 

Freddie felt as though he were drunk on the pleasure, but he wanted nothing better than to please the man in his bed. “Yes, daddy.” He replied, biting his lip. Jim thrust his hips experimentally and watched as Freddie’s cock twitched with renewed interest. “Gonna make you come, daddy.”

 

Jim gripped his hips as Freddie started to ride him properly, tilting his head back as his cock filled out almost painfully quickly. “Oh, shit-” Freddie gasped as he slammed his hips down, his head clearing a little.

 

“Oh, gorgeous-” Jim thrust his hips up again, interrupting their rhythm to quicken it. “God, you’re so tight-”

 

“Not so much of a whore now.” Freddie smirked, digging his nails into Jim’s chest as he slammed his hips down again. “Daddy, you’re so big-” He said teasingly.

 

“Fill you right up, darling.” Jim bucked his hips up in quick succession. “Lean back, sweetheart, be a good boy.”

 

Freddie couldn’t tell if this man was a figment of his own imagination, if this was a heady daydream attached to a sex toy; he seemed to know too much about what made him weak at the knees. He leaned back obediently, gripping onto Jim’s thighs; he cried out when his next thrust hit his prostate hard. Beautiful little moans punched out of him, Jim’s cries getting louder and louder as he got closer. “Daddy, touch me-” He whimpered, not wanting to be left hanging.

 

“No.” Jim replied, smirking with the power that Freddie was giving him. “No, darling, you’re going to come all over daddy’s cock without having my help.”

 

Freddie gasped and his grip tightened on Jim’s shoulders. Jim thrusted up harder, his thrusts more erratic, head tilting back as his release crept up on him.

 

He was a beautiful counterpart, Freddie considered, his second release bubbling through his thighs and stomach. He watched as Jim’s eyes closed, as his brow creased, his mouth fell open; he bit his own lip, struggling to keep his eyes open, trying to make them both come. 

 

Jim got louder, crying out with each thrust, and Freddie moaned loudly as he came a second time, almost drowning out the satisfied sigh that left Jim’s lips; he dug his hands into Freddie’s hips as he came into the condom. 

 

Every muscle in Freddie’s body softened and Jim reached out to touch that smooth skin lest he never got an opportunity to again. “Good boy, Freddie.” He murmured, hand stroking over his side.

 

* * *

 

_ “I’m not a good housewife, and I can’t do dishes for shit.” Freddie said simply as he opened the door to the house. “Don’t expect the Ritz.” _

 

Jim opened one eye, stretching out amongst silk sheets; he was alone again. It was the most common occurrence after these encounters: gay men were awfully shy, he mused. They put on all this bravado in the club, in the bathhouses, but they never carried through; they’d take you home and then expect you to crawl out of the window in shame.

 

None of them ever seemed committed, he mused. They wanted sex, casual pleasure, but never true intimacy, the intimacy of knowing someone as they knew themselves. No one was ever looking for commitment, two and a half children and a cat, the domestic life of nursery runs. They saw themselves as outcasts, and so they acted as them, pretending they hated the life perpetuated by the nuclear family.

 

They had to be pretending, he reasoned. He couldn’t be the only gay man in the whole world one day hoping for children and marriage and growing old with someone beside him.

 

He glanced around in the morning sunshine for his jeans, figuring it would be another escape through a back door.

 

“Personally, I think coffee in the morning is only for devils or people that hate their lives.” He heard and sat up a little, propping himself up on one elbow as the door opened. Freddie was cavorting around in a small pair of black boyshorts and a t-shirt - almost definitely Jim’s, judging by the size. He was holding a tray in hand, two mugs and a pot of tea and a little decanter of milk and sugar. “So I hope you like tea. Otherwise, darling, this is not going to work.”

 

Jim’s cheeks pinkened with delight. “I prefer tea in the morning.” He replied, opening Freddie’s side of the covers to help him climb back into bed. “Is it English breakfast?”

 

“Of course.” Freddie’s smile was joyful. “I don’t know how you take it, hence the tray. I’m not usually so horrendously domestic, but today’s an occasion to celebrate.”

 

“What’s the celebration?” Jim questioned, pouring the tea for the both of them.

 

Freddie curled up under his arm as though they’d already been doing this for years. “It’s not every day that the man you set your heart on actually likes you enough to stay with you.” He replied sweetly. “It’s good old Irish hospitality.”

 

Jim squeezed him lightly. “This is a nice surprise.” He kissed Freddie playfully. “You can call it that if you’d like to, darling. Irish hospitality.” He echoed with a smile.


	2. Sailors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The itch gets a little too insatiable.

It wasn’t often that he found himself so restless that he tried the tubs after Heaven. It hadn’t even been a disappointing night; his thighs ached a little from taking the cock of some big, burly bear that he hadn’t even bothered to take the name of.

 

He had an itch under the collar, a little feeling bubbling inside, that his tastes had changed. Usually, an encounter like that would satisfy him for at least the length of time that it took to be able to walk properly again. Now, though, those thoughts recurred through his mind; being the one with the power, the one causing someone else to fall apart at the seams. He craved thin legs around his waist, that soft, breathy voice that had urged him on, the impatient shove down onto the bed.

 

It was an easy enough fix: Sailors. He couldn’t exactly fly back over to the West Side Baths to find that man again, but he could try and find some knock-off twink that could do the same act. The problem with Heaven was that he was still established in his old tastes; he knew almost every face and almost every face knew him. Sailors, though, he was fairly anonymous, and no one would think it strange if he went for one of the younger men - he was only thirty-three, after all.

 

The feeling of steam against his skin made him prickle with heat; he could practically hear that voice in the back of his mind. He took a deep breath, taking in the heady atmosphere; it was gone three in the morning, the busiest time of the night, men crawling from clubs to tubs, the same as him.

 

His eyes scanned the men around him, trying to pick out one that would look good bent in half beneath him. He always forgot how seedy Sailors could get at this time of night, when the communal areas became public sex areas - even listening to the sounds from around him was overwhelming. He’d never really considered himself a voyeur, but there were a few couples that were just begging to be watched; the idea made him blush. He’d never had sex in one of these public areas before, preferring a side room or the maze, even rooms in the complete pitch-black: the idea of fucking someone here for everyone else to watch hit him like the strongest aphrodisiac. 

 

He let his gaze fall on a man across the room, taking in warm skin, cropped hair, reddened lips around someone else’s cock. He was fucking perfect, Jim could tell immediately, from the faint bumps of his spine, his sharp hipbones - even just watching made his cock throb. Jim wondered momentarily on the etiquette of asking to join in, wondering if being so public made it an open invitation-

 

Dark eyes met his as the man pulled away to breathe for a moment. They widened momentarily in surprise as Jim smirked and crossed his arms, arching his eyebrow mockingly. The man - the name was at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t quite remember, it had been so long - stood up, ignoring the questions from his partner.

 

Those first touches of his lips were surprisingly soft, gentle; the man cupped his cheek lightly with the palm of his hand as though he were a lover, not a casual partner. “I’ve been here every night for two weeks waiting for you to show your face.” He murmured.

 

That voice - the unexpected English twang - could only belong to one man. Freddie.

 

Jim rested his hands on his waist, momentarily feeling bad; he’d been thinking about the sex, but clearly, Freddie had been thinking about much more. “I’m not a regular.” He replied, kissing his lower lip slowly. “Prefer the club scene, personally.”

 

“Heaven?” Freddie smiled and kissed him again. “Me too.”

 

When they pulled away, Jim couldn’t help but glance over at where Freddie had been before. “Your little friend looks positively bereft, darling. You should invite him over.”

 

“Oh, that’s Paul. He’s a complete cock and I have the misfortune of working with him.” Freddie smiled wryly. “Apparently that now includes blowjobs.” Jim laughed at that, fingers gripping him a little tighter, a little more protective. “Besides, I’m not sharing you.” Freddie smirked.

 

“Oh?” Jim teased. “You want my whole attention on you?”

 

“Something like that.” Freddie surged up to kiss him again, more passionate this time, fingers twisting in the hair at the base of his neck. Jim kissed back, pushing him against the wall, warm tiles against his bare skin; he carefully slipped a thigh between both of his and swallowed the resulting moan. “Oh, finally.” He smiled into the kiss. 

 

“Been thinking about this, darling?” Jim teased. 

 

“You have no idea how much I need it.” Freddie kissed him a little more desperately. “Someone to hold me down and fuck me.”

 

Jim grinned and kissed down his neck, sliding his hands down to where Freddie was rutting against his thigh. “Go on, sweetheart.” He kissed the juncture between his neck and his shoulder just to feel his shudder and squeezed his ass lightly. “Have you got your own room?”

 

Freddie’s head hit the wall as Jim bit marks into his skin. “No.” He rocked forward into the addictive friction, feeling how hard, hot and heavy Jim was against his hip. He bit his lip, scratching his nails down Jim’s shoulders. “I like to be watched.”

 

“Fucking hell, Freddie.” He muttered. “Then you better choose where we’re going, else I’ll have you against this wall.”

 

Freddie shuddered at the idea; Jim felt his cock twitch against his thigh. “There’s- there are these little sunbed things by the pool. In the next room.” He clarified. “I love it there.”

 

Jim picked him up and carried him into the next room - it was so busy, and his cheeks heated just at the thought of fucking with so many people watching. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Freddie said quickly. “It’s just, I-”

 

“Shut up, Freddie.” Jim kissed him long and slow. “Why don’t you go and get the lube, darling?”

 

It was the easiest way in the whole world to get Freddie to submit, to let Jim take control; after all, he’d asked for someone to hold him down. He smirked as he went to a little cupboard in the corner, fully aware that people were staring at him.

 

When Freddie turned back, he had a pair of handcuffs dangling from one finger, and Freddie looked as though Christmas had come early. “Lie down on your back, darling, hands above your head.” He said sweetly. His ability to make such dirty commands sound so loving made Freddie’s knees a little weak; he lay down obediently.

 

“They’re just velcro ones.” Jim secured one of Freddie’s wrists, looped the chain through the hole at the top of the bed, and then secured his other wrist. “If you tug hard enough they’ll come off.”

 

Maybe he didn’t mention that he didn’t trust himself not to lose the key here. 

 

Freddie bent easily as he pushed his legs back to his chest, kneeling between his thighs; they were both breathing a little faster with excitement. “Have you been prepped?” He questioned, kissing down the inside of one of his thighs.

 

Freddie floated in that moment of surrender, in the knowledge that he was giving himself up, letting himself go from his worries. “No.” He said honestly. “With him, it’s all give and no take.”

 

“Thank God. You can’t get impatient with me, then.” He lubed up his fingers. “One or two, darling?” He kept the decisions simple, letting him keep his head clear.

 

“Two.” Freddie replied quickly. “Don’t want to be impatient. Take your time.” 

 

He’d needed this headspace for so long; he needed to feel looked after, to feel relaxed, to let someone make him feel good. “Relax.” Jim said softly, slipping the first two fingers inside. Freddie arched off the bed instinctively and Jim swept a gentle hand down his side, pressing a kiss to the inside of his thigh. “Relax, darling.”

 

The muscles in his body softened and he smiled. “Perfect, sweetheart, you’re doing so well.” He said gently, leaning up to kiss him. He pulled back a little to watch Freddie’s eyelashes flutter as he carefully rubbed over his prostate, biting his lip and listening to the airy groan he got in response. “That good?”

 

“So good.” Freddie turned his face into his shoulder, heel digging into the bed beneath him to give him the leverage to push his hips up. “Ah- just like that-” He laughed a little with the dizzying pleasure.

 

His voice was so soft, so light, so relaxed; the sound of it made Jim smile. He kept up a steady rhythm with his fingers, letting him rise and sink with the waves of his pleasure: he wanted nothing more than to make him happy, keep him safe, give him what he needed. He’d never experienced subspace like that, never been able to give himself over so completely, but it was wondrous to be on the other end of. 

 

“Another.” Freddie said softly, legs falling wider apart. Jim couldn’t help but lean down, kiss those scarlet lips again, whisper sweet nothings just to see those cheeks pinken and that smile widen. 

 

“One second, sweetheart.” Jim said softly; he knew Freddie didn’t mind it a little rough, but he couldn’t imagine hurting him in that state, even if only a little. He eased his fingers apart and scissored them carefully, pressing little kisses over his legs as he wriggled a third into place. 

 

“Ah!” Freddie moaned when he applied a little more pressure this time, instinctively pushing his hips down to meet the pleasure. “Oh, do that again-” He begged.

 

Jim massaged his prostate properly now, watching as precum dripped from the head of his cock; he couldn’t stop himself from leaning down to taste him, tasting the heady, saltiness of sex. “Like this?” He checked. He trailed his tongue over Freddie’s cock, over his balls, lower and lower until he could swipe his tongue over his stretched hole.

 

“Just like that.” Freddie replied and arched his back again, pushing down on them as much as he could. “Need you, Jim, please-” He cried out at the gentle licks, his whole body shaking with arousal at the teasing pleasure.

 

There was something about hearing his name that got to him. Freddie wasn’t playing around this time, wasn’t teasing with names and dynamics designed to get him riled. This was what Jim had wanted, what he’d needed - somebody to need him, not just a role he could fill.

 

He couldn’t resist twisting his fingers again, slipping his tongue in with them, lost in the way that Freddie locked a leg around his back to keep him there. The taste was intoxicating, and the skin was irresistibly soft as he fluttered his tongue; Freddie moaned obscenely at the ceiling.

 

“Okay, darling.” He said softly, licking firmly once more as he removed his fingers. He’d never fucked somebody so deep in their subspace before, but it was proving to be one of the best experiences he’d ever had. “I just need to go and get a condom, I’ll be back.”

 

“No!” Freddie said quickly, wrapping his other ankle around his waist. “No, please, just-” He canted his hips up desperately, trying to form a sentence. “I’m clean, darling.”

 

“Freddie, think it through.” Jim said carefully. “Are you sure you want that, darling?”

 

“I’m sure.” Freddie said certainly. “I need it.”

 

“Christ.” Jim laughed a little and connected their lips again, lubing up his cock. He’d never usually be brave enough to bareback a random stranger, but there was something about Freddie - maybe it was his earnestness, maybe it was his vulnerability - that suggested he wouldn’t be a stranger for much longer.

 

Freddie was bent in half beneath him, legs trembling with the strain of keeping them spread until Jim gripped one himself. He panted eagerly, cock throbbing against his stomach as he started to push in; he’d never had someone tear him apart so well, someone who knew so well what to do with fingers, tongue and cock to have him moaning and trembling. 

 

He panted raggedly as he bottomed out, taking a moment to relax; he was no stranger to taking cock, but he wasn’t usually quite so turned on and they usually weren’t quite so big. His mind was a little detached from his body, but that was how he liked it: his body could drown out his mind.

 

“Okay?” Jim checked, leaning down to kiss him gently. He could feel muscles clenching around his cock and had to stop himself from snapping his hips forward; Freddie was so irresistibly tight.

 

“Yeah- I-” His back arched instinctively again as Jim moved the tiniest bit. “God, fucking- move!” He cried out as he snapped his hips forward, hands clenching around the cuffs; Jim groaned at the picture of him underneath him, bound and helpless and taking willingly whatever he was given.

 

Freddie’s lips were parted as Jim set a steady pace, breathy moans escaping on their own whim; he closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of being so completely out of control of his own pleasure. Jim threaded a hand through his hair, tugging gently just to hear Freddie’s moans grow louder. 

 

He leaned down to capture those lips again, though Freddie was a little past the point of good kissing; he half-returned what he was given, half moaning and half whining with each touch of his prostate. He loved to be fucked like this, to come without a hand on his cock, the orgasm radiating from the very core of his being.

 

“Harder-” Freddie panted against his lips. “Harder, harder-  _ please,  _ darling.” He gasped.

 

He cried out loudly as Jim grabbed his hips and angled him a little different, pulled him into his thrusts so that he could fuck him that much harder. He turned his head and bit his shoulder, trying his best not to be too loud but hyper-aware of the eyes on him, watching him getting fucked, jealous of the best sex that Freddie had ever experienced-

 

“Fuck!” Freddie cried out as Jim slammed right against his prostate. “Oh, fuck, oh, right there-  _ please-” _ Freddie moaned out. “Right there,  _ please, right there-” _

 

Jim groaned as he clenched down hard, squeezing tight around his cock, making everything impossibly more delicious. “You feel so fucking good.” He moaned against Freddie’s lips, cupping his cheek and kissing him again, so much messier as they both lost themselves to the heat.

 

Freddie started to push up against his thrusts, allowing him in just that inch deeper; he cried out at a handful of rough thrusts against his swollen prostate, his orgasm starting to come closer. “I-” Freddie gasped and moaned at the ceiling. “Please, darling, _please-”_

 

“Come on, sweetness.” Jim panted into his neck, kissing the sensitive skin at the base of his throat. “You look so good when you lose it, darling, come on.” He nipped lightly at the skin as the heat started to uncurl in his stomach, as he felt his orgasm rushing closer.

 

“Fucking hell!” Freddie gritted his teeth, moaning as he pushed back against those thrusts. “Harder, rougher, come on-”

 

He grabbed his hips roughly, slamming out his next few thrusts, hanging dangerously close to the edge. “Come on, darling.” He bit down at the base of his throat, moaning loudly.

 

Freddie gasped, back arching violently as his hips stuttered under Jim’s thrusts. “Fuck!” He cried out as his orgasm tore through him; his toes curled, his eyes squeezed shut and he painted both of their chests with sticky white without ever needing a hand on his cock.

 

Jim moaned as Freddie clenched down on him, giving a last few shaky thrusts before coming hard inside him. He closed his eyes as he rocked his hips to ride it out, lost in the way that Freddie whimpered from the sensitivity and power of his own orgasm.

 

Freddie glanced dazedly up at him as he opened his eyes again, sinful lips parted and pulling him in. He leaned down and kissed him slowly, one hand undoing his cuffs gently. “That was so good, darling.” Freddie whispered, still a little out of him.

 

“You were so good.” Jim kissed him lightly again and smiled. “I’m going to get you home, now, okay?”

 

* * *

 

It had made the most sense to get in a taxi with him; they were both going to the same borough and it couldn’t be more than a twenty minute walk from Freddie’s back to his. After paying for drinks at Heaven and his entry fee to Sailors, he had finished the night with sixteen pounds and thirty pence in his pocket; two notes, three coins.

 

He was hyper-aware of the fact that the tariff was ticking higher and higher, and that he’d have to pay half the fare: it would be an embarrassment to let Freddie foot the bill.

 

If he’d been on his own, he would’ve gotten out somewhere around Hyde Park and then walked the rest of the way to save the money. Freddie, though, wouldn’t hear of him leaving when he’d already given him his address; he knew Jim was bluffing him with some excuse about a friend. 

 

Freddie was laying against him by the time they got back to his place; Jim glanced out in the early morning sunshine, seeing a gate emblazoned with “Garden Lodge” and the rest protected from onlookers by a high wall. “Time for us to go.” Jim smiled and grabbed the money from his pocket, pretending to count the coins before he went to hand it over. 

 

There would be no more cigarettes until payday, but it was worth it for the night out he’d had.

 

“What are you doing?” Freddie asked sleepily and pushed his hand away. “It’s my house, I’ll pay.”

 

“Oh, I was-” He looked away shyly. “I was going to walk from here, actually.”

 

Freddie eyed him suspiciously but didn’t make a fuss. “Too late, I’ve paid now.” He handed over two twenty pound notes and waved his hand dismissively. “Keep the change.”

 

Jim wondered what kind of luxury it was to not have to care about small change.

 

The cold morning air sobered him a little and he turned up the collar of his jacket against the wind. “Come in.” Freddie held a hand out for him. “If you want to, I mean.”

 

“I-” Jim looked at the impending rain clouds. “It’s only twenty minutes, I shouldn’t get too wet.”

 

“I don’t mean it like that.” Freddie came a little closer and smiled when Jim took his hand. “I’d like it if you stayed with me for the night.”

 

“The morning, really.” Jim smiled but let himself be led through the gate. He glanced around at the beautiful garden with its blossom trees and smiled. “It’s nice here.”

 

“Awfully quiet, sometimes.” Freddie smiled. “It’s not often I get company.”

 

_ Jim rolled over, and the bed beside him was warm; he instinctively drew the body closer. The fire crackled in the grate and the sheets around him were silky to touch, soft and smooth against his bare skin.  _

 

_ When he opened his eyes, dark eyes met him, and both men couldn’t help but smile. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is going to be a (very requested - you can probably think which kink it is!) chapter three which will a little more extreme than these!

**Author's Note:**

> I want guesses in the comments as to what the next chapter is (I've hinted it throughout) - as always, kudos/comments make me v v happy and are one of the reasons I write!


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